


do you feel my heartbeat quickening

by endofadream



Series: taking this one step at a time [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A lil bit of verbal humiliation in a GOOD WAY, Barebacking, Bottom Steve Rogers, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Felching, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Riding, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: It still makes flames shoot up Steve’s neck, this forbidden word, the way it makes Steve feel and all the ways it shouldn’t.





	do you feel my heartbeat quickening

**Author's Note:**

> hello! as you can see i have added this into a series, so expect more of steve and bucky being kinky old men who like to call/be called daddy :-)

Steve tries to think how it escalated to this point, but thinking isn’t exactly a priority right now, not with the press of Bucky’s hips to his ass and the scratch of his beard on the back of Steve’s neck in hot little patches that itch and burn.

Actually, Steve is pretty sure he  _ can’t  _ think right now. Everything around him is unfocused static, pleasure spread to every corner of his body. Somewhere above it all he floats, enveloped in the sound of Bucky’s voice and how it feels to be doted on the way Bucky does when they play.

The words come easier this time, now that the initial shame is less stiff. Bucky’d peppered Steve with kisses beforehand, petting gently along his arms and thighs as he undressed him. Murmured soft, filthy words of praise against Steve’s mouth, the blush-reddened shell of his ear as every new inch of skin was revealed:  _ Such a good boy for me, baby. You blush so pretty for your daddy, you know that _

And Steve mewling  _ Daddy _ in a voice that couldn’t be his, because that voice was high-pitched and plaintive and begged for attention, and Steve Rogers  _ never _ begged for attention—but, somehow, it was and Bucky scooped him up, kissed his neck and shoulders and finally his lips, wedging his hand between them to play with Steve’s foreskin where it was just beginning to reveal the smooth crown of his cock.

“I got you,” Bucky said as he rubbed the slick head, thumbing at the retracted skin until Steve was slick and shaking, whimpering little syllables that alternated between aborted attempts at both Bucky’s name and that goddamn glorious  _ beautiful  _ nickname.

“Daddy,” Steve whined, hips jerking forward. He kissed Bucky blindly, sloppy, said it again,  _ Daddy _ .

“Sweet, gorgeous boy,” Bucky cooed, kissing Steve back just as sloppy. “Daddy is gonna make you feel so special tonight. Just like you deserve.”

Steve could cry thinking about it. He could cry now, with the deep way that Bucky is fucking him. In, out, the thick, heavy length of his cock pressing everywhere. The scent of them sex-thick, primal, overlaid with the sharpness of sweat as they move together. Bucky’s chest to Steve’s back, both huge and imposing but Steve feeling so  _ small _ cradled under Bucky’s weight.

Bucky doesn’t keep his rhythm consistent, choosing instead to vary it to keep Steve guessing. One moment his chest is still to Steve’s back and he’s fucking him slow and easy; the next he’s straightening up and fucking him hard until the backs of Steve’s thighs glow pink and Bucky’s own deep breaths turn into tight grunts.

It drives Steve fucking crazy, and Bucky knows it. Same way that the fingers of Bucky’s flesh hand carding through his hair makes him boneless, and the sudden tug that yanks his head back makes Steve gasp. These are all things that Bucky  _ knows _ .

Though his endurance is—obviously—superhuman, Steve’s biceps still tremble as he holds himself up. The space between his body and the bed is musky with the scent of pre-come and arousal when his head dips down as Bucky’s cock rubs against his prostate. Between his legs Steve’s cock curves, desperate, towards his belly, slick pearls of pre-come sliding down the shaft when they don’t drip off onto the sheets.

His mouth is dry, and he closes it, swallows thickly to try to rid it of the cotton. “Daddy,” he whispers, a little hoarse. His hair falls down over his forehead, sticking to the sweaty skin there.

The shame may be loosened, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t lingering: it still makes flames shoot up Steve’s neck, this forbidden word, the way it makes Steve feel and all the ways it  _ shouldn’t _ .

A low groan behind him, fingers of both metal and flesh alike tightening on the skin of Steve’s hips. Steve arches into the pain with a whimper, bouncing his ass a little because he may be half-out of his mind with desire but he still knows exactly what Bucky loves.

And right on cue: wrecked, Bucky says, “That’s it.  _ Oh, Steve.  _ That’s my good baby, my sweet little boy.” Like just hearing Steve say that word is enough to undo him—and maybe it is, because isn’t that the whole point of this thing? Asking for things from each other, this strange but amazing dance.

Steve moans, choked; says again, “Uhn— _ Daddy, yes _ .”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky swears. With every abortive jolt of his hips back into Steve’s heat the tenuous grasp on his control loosens. “ _ Fuck _ . What you do to me, honey, you just got no goddamn idea.”

I do, Steve thinks wildly, you know I do.

Out loud, Steve moans. He whimpers and grunts and arches back into everything that Bucky—his  _ daddy _ —gives him. He wants to be good, wants to be  _ so good _ and make his daddy feel so great.

“Harder,” Steve begs, because it isn’t enough, it’s never enough. Like this he can’t get pounded the way he needs, can’t get Bucky as deep as possible until he feels him practically in his guts. Breathless, needy, he says, “Fuck me harder, Daddy, please.”

“You want harder?” Bucky grunts, hips snapping forward hard, hard. The clap of flesh makes goosebumps break out over Steve’s body. “You want to be a good little boy and take Daddy’s big cock?”

A sob is ripped from Steve’s throat. TV static fuzzes his brain and his hands claw at the sheets, pulling up handfuls of cotton. “Please,” he whines, “oh, please,  _ please, Daddy _ —”

The hands on his hips skate up Steve’s body, over the hard peaks of his nipples, before arms are circling his chest. In one smooth movement Bucky flips them, cock still buried deep in Steve’s ass with Steve situated unsteadily on his lap.

“You wanna come,” Bucky drawls low, dangerous, giving Steve a sharp grin that makes him shudder, “you’re gonna ride Daddy’s cock like you were fucking made to do it. That seem fair, sweetheart?”

Oh, it’s  _ fucking fair _ , all right.

Steve plants his knees, braces his weight with his hands on Bucky’s chest. Bucky looks up at him, and Steve looks down, and he’s breathless, overwhelmed. Usually piercing, Bucky’s gaze is soft, blue eyes the warm shade of the sky in early spring. The half-smile he gives Steve is secret, just for them. His metal hand cups Steve’s jaw with no intention other than the contact.

Love unfurls like a flower inside Steve’s chest, growing bigger and bigger until he is going to surely burst with it. The metal is warmed with the temperature between them, the plates shifting minutely under his palm when Steve places his hand over Bucky’s.

A moment of silence stretches between them, easy as anything, decades’ worth of words and sentiments that they don’t need to say out loud. Their roles for each other, plain as day: Bucky has always been the protector, even after the serum. Steve helpless as ever, putty under Bucky’s capable hands.

They don’t say it, but  _ I love you _ passes between them easy as anything.

“Come on, baby,” says Bucky. Both hands are at Steve’s hips now, thumbs in the divot of muscle pressing, pressing. “Show your daddy what you got. And after I come inside that beautiful ass, after I lick you clean with my tongue, maybe then you can come.”

Steve rocks on Bucky’s lap, groaning at the shift of Bucky’s cock in him. When he exhales the breath is shuddery. Their eyes meet again, and that’s all the encouragement that Steve needs.

There’s no need to start slow: they’re both past that, sweaty and worked up as they are. Steve begins with his hips first, keeping Bucky sheathed as deep as gravity allows and luxuriating in the rough press of Bucky’s pubic hair against his ass. Quickly it evolves into Steve rising up on his knees and sinking down, over and over, back arching as he reaches behind to grab Bucky’s thigh. Under his touch it quivers, muscles flexing as they brace, Bucky’s heels digging in.

Steve says, “Yes, Daddy,  _ Daddy _ , oh god, oh fuck,” and Bucky says, “That’s my little boy. Ride your daddy harder, baby, make me feel good.”

Dropping forward, Steve grabs the headboard with one hand, giving them both a few moments to breathe, eyes locked, before he starts moving again.

Bucky’s eyes flutter closed, a momentary lapse of control that Steve clutches close to his chest like the precious thing it is. Too often now Bucky doesn’t let himself really  _ feel _ , at least not the way he did before. He always has to be in control, a tiring act that Steve can tell wears him to his bones.

Steve gives it the best he’s got, rides Bucky until his thighs hurt and Bucky is twisting beneath him, body shaking and contorting as his hands stroke Steve’s cheek, his throat, follow the line between his pecs down to where his cock bounces, slick and sticky and purple-red.

The touch of semi-warm metal to the delicate velvet skin is like the dangerous tip of a silver blade. It’s impossibly arousing, knowing what this hand is capable of and what it’s doing now so tenderly.

Steve sobs out the jolt that runs through him, tilts his head down to watch a blurt of precome slide, glossy, over intricate metal plating.

“Fuck,” he swears, unfocused in his pleasure. “Ohh, oh  _ god _ , Daddy—”

Bucky’s voice is a low rumble when he says, “My sweet little baby enjoying himself? Hmm? Are you giving Daddy the best show you can?”

“Yeah,” Steve pants, swallowing audibly when Bucky’s cock pegs his prostate. He rolls his whole body into his next thrust and watches Bucky’s eyes narrow and darken. So he does it again, and again, whining, “Oh,  _ oh,  _ yes, Daddy, oh— _ fuck _ me, don’t stop.”

The curl of metal tightens, briefly, and Steve keens at the flash of  _ too much _ .

“I’m close,” says Bucky, a throaty utterance that has Steve’s cock throbbing. “Christ, sugar, you’re fuckin’ better than any porn, you know that? Goddamned wet dream, right in the flesh, and it’s my cock inside you.”

Between Steve’s thighs, following the movements of his hips, his own cock continues to bob, though it is hindered now slightly by Bucky’s hand. Tentative strokes turn tight, vulnerable flesh fisted between the shining curl of metal.

Steve feels filthy. He feels beautiful.

“You gonna make Daddy come?” Bucky is saying, words dripping thick with Brooklyn, old buildings and derelict tenements manifesting back to life right in front of them. Steve closes his eyes and he’s there, back when this was still secret, a trinket too shameful to take from its box.

His thighs burn and the bed creaks and Steve wants Bucky to come, to feel it inside him, that hot-wet rush in the deepest part of him. Clenches around him, hot and tight and wet with lube; Bucky shudders, head digging into the pillow as he swears, “Oh, fuck, Stevie, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah,” Steve pants, grinding forward now, chest heaving. “Come inside me, Daddy, wanna feel it.” A curious hand behind himself, fingers touching where the hot length of Bucky’s cock slides in and out, and Steve keens, begs, “Please, please—”

Bucky surges up and grabs Steve’s waist, flipping him onto his back. In the same movement he wraps Steve’s legs around his own waist, grabs Steve’s hair with his flesh hand. The low whine Steve lets out at all of the manhandling gets lost in Bucky’s mouth as he kisses deep and dirty.

Bucky’s orgasm is quick, his tongue sliding from Steve’s mouth to lick down the column of his neck. When his body tenses, back curving as his hips snap forward, he bites down on Steve’s shoulder, muffling an animal cry into his skin.

It hits Steve like a blow to the chest; he reels in it, gasping, shivering, as Bucky’s cock pulses, jerking deep in him. The shuddery slide of it becomes audibly slicker, wet warmth seeping around the shaft, pushed deep inside—

“Oh, fuck,” Steve gasps, and comes. Untouched, completely, cock jerking against his belly. The orgasm feels ripped from his nerve endings, wringing him dry, leaving him in that soft place where he floats, incoherent just enough to make things golden and fuzzy like the cashmere throw on their couch.

Distantly he’s aware of the dryness of his mouth; distantly he’s aware he’s crying out, an endless litany of  _ Daddy _ as he trembles. It’s good, it’s  _ so good _ . It is everything and nothing, an endless pulsing of white-hot spreading from his belly to his clenched fists, his body mindlessly seeking more more  _ more. _

And then he remembers Bucky’s orders, that sly red-lipped grin when he told Steve not to come. The hot afterglow of orgasm cools immediately to panicked static; Steve’s eyes open and his brow furrows and he says, “Sorry, sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry I came without your permission.”

But Bucky isn’t looking down at him with disappointment. Instead, his eyes are still arousal-dark, pupils wide and gleaming inky black. His mouth, lips parted, open where he drags his gaze from Steve’s spent cock to the Rorschach of come on his belly.

This is a coveteur’s gaze. Sharp focus, void of distraction, and Bucky says, “Fuckin’ hell, baby, did you come just ‘cause daddy blew his load inside you?”

Reverent. No sign of anger, just awe and love. Steve cries out, quiet, and squeezes his eyes shut again. Against his belly his cock jerks, just as insatiable as Steve’s filthy desire.

This non-answer is enough for Bucky, who says, “That’s right, of course you did. My little boy just can’t get enough, huh?” He eases his softening cock free with a squelch, gently parting Steve’s thighs.

Though he can’t see it Steve still feels when Bucky’s come slides loose, a warm trickle down the crease of his ass. Steve moans, overwhelmed.

“Hey,” says Bucky, “look at me.”

Steve does, the world sliding back into hazy focus. Bucky is cocksure, yet soft, still, as he says, “Told my pretty baby I’d eat his ass out, didn’t I?”

There isn’t even time to react before Bucky is licking up the trail of his come and his mouth is sealing noisily over Steve’s hole. Steve isn’t ashamed to admit that he squeals, body rolling towards the slick slide of Bucky’s tongue. 

“Uhn, oh god, oh god,  _ Daddy _ , yes,” Steve whines. His ass is going to burn with the way Bucky’s beard is chafing him, but it’s worth it, so,  _ so _ worth it to see Bucky’s dark head between his legs, to feel the drag of the tip of his nose against Steve’s taint.

Bucky’s hands slide up under Steve’s ass, hefting him up to angle his hips. His tongue slides deeper this way, licking past the lax muscle, slick on slick, saliva dripping down the divide of Steve’s ass.

Against his belly Steve is getting hard again, cock twitching with sharp oversensitive pulses as it chubs up. One of his hands goes to the soft length of Bucky’s hair, anchoring. Bucky hums his approval at it, eyes cast up to look at Steve as he fucks his tongue in and out at a pace Steve is sure is going to eventually kill him.

Steve bites his lip, arching his neck as Bucky’s metal hand goes to his dick. “ _ Daddy _ ,” he moans, and  _ moans _ because Bucky is pulling back and his dick is thick and full again and already slick at the tip.

And Steve is a weak-willed man, already begging, “Please, put it in me,  _ please— _ ”

“Greedy boy,” Bucky murmurs, easing Steve’s legs wide enough that the muscles pull. It makes Steve hiss, but in the best way. Settling between, Bucky grips his own dick with his right hand, rubbing it up and down Steve’s ass and letting it catch on the looseness of his hole. “You want daddy’s cock  _ again _ ? You want daddy to come in you ‘til you’re sloppy with it?”

Bucky is already sliding home, the fat head of his cock stretching Steve wide as he says, “You wanna be daddy’s good little comeslut, don’t you? And you’d let me eat it out of you again and again, hmm?” He bottoms out with a grunt, face pinched beautifully in pleasure. “Maybe—oh, fuck, that’s good—sit on daddy’s face, push my come out and let it drip onto my tongue.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve swears, breaking the scene briefly. His face blooms hot at the words, but his dick gets another message entirely, blurting out an almost obscene amount of pre-come onto his heaving abs.

Bucky laughs, rolling his hips forward slow, the tip of his cock rubbing directly against that spot that has Steve gasping. Does it again, carefully orchestrated thrusts that alight every nerve, every muscle. “Sounds like you’re up for it.  _ Are  _ you up for it, baby boy?”

“Yes,  _ yeah _ , Daddy, please.” Steve is already close, back arching up off the bed and hands grabbing at the pillows underneath his head. Christ, he doesn’t even remember the last time he was this close so quickly.

Bucky grabs Steve’s hips, palms folding over the sharp iliac crest, and fucks into him desperately, lower lip between his teeth, eyes hot and dark when Steve looks up.

Steve wets his own lips, brings his hand down to wrap around his cock, and Bucky comes with a sharp gasp, a stuttered hitching of his breath as his hips jerk forward. Deep inside, Steve can feel the pulse of his cock; it takes only a few rough tugs on his own for Steve to come as well, crying out, “Fuck, Daddy, in me, come in me.”

“You are such a hot fuckin’ thing,” Bucky murmurs, sounding just as fucked-out and dated as Steve does. He slots their mouths together and Steve lets him take, lets himself be kissed breathless as his heart gradually slows in his chest

The hand not covered in come cradles the back of Bucky’s neck, slides down his chest to stop over his heart. Under Steve’s palm it beats, rapid.

“C’mon,” Bucky says, lips brushing Steve’s as he speaks. “You wanna sit on Daddy’s face, darling?”

Steve blooms hot again, but he can’t deny the race of his pulse. When he pulls back Bucky’s gaze is that hungry, focused look that Steve doesn’t see often enough anymore; it makes him preen, just a little, knowing that he’s the cause of it.

He flips their positions, careful to keep Bucky inside him as he settles on top. He reaches out a hand to trace gentle fingertips over the sharp cut of Bucky’s jaw, the dimple in his chin and the straight slope of his nose.

Then, slow, he eases off of Bucky’s cock, lets it fall, nearly soft now, to Bucky’s belly. Bucky’s gaze grows darker as Steve shuffles forward, and then Steve sees nothing at all as he turns around.

A guttural groan behind him, the kind pinched straight from the stomach, and Bucky says, “Jesus, Mary, and  _ Joseph _ . You are fuckin’ beautiful, so fuckin’ full of my come it’s drippin’ outta you.” Hands spread Steve’s cheeks, a tongue teases over his hole, and Bucky’s voice is low as he adds, “Push out for me, baby, c’mon.”

Steve buries his face in his shoulder, whining quietly as he obeys. The teasing flicker of tongue turns into broad laps that make Steve jolt with oversensitivity. “Daddy,” he says. “Ohh, it’s so much,  _ fuck _ .”

“You should see yourself,” says Bucky. “Christ, it’s dripping out onto my chin, you’re so full.”

Steve straightens up, arches, grabs Bucky’s hair in a loose fist. Below him Bucky moans, forehead pressed against the curve of his ass. “Gonna get me hard again, Daddy,” Steve moans. With gentle directive he drags Bucky’s head back, just enough so he can grind down against his face.

Bucky’s amused huff of laughter is a hot fan of breath over his hole.

“An insatiable, greedy boy,” he says, muffled. Metal wraps around Steve’s cock again, already half-hard with interest. “Let’s see how many times you can come from Daddy’s tongue, hmm?”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](http://endofadream.tumblr.com) and instagram is [here](http://instagram.com/wintersoldiered) if you’re into that sorta thing!
> 
> reviews are always lovely because i love talking about my works!


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